Colour tattoo of a macrame hanging planter with succulents, a snake plant and trailing string of hearts, in bold black outlines, on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Hanging succulent planter on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A bold black-outlined tattoo shows a macrame hanging planter holding a brown terracotta pot with a large pale green and pink succulent, two spiky snake plant leaves and a trailing string of hearts. Pink beads sit along the cord knots, and the flat fills of green, pink and brown sit on the skin of an upper thigh. The design is centred on the frame, with a partial dark tattoo visible at the left edge.

Neo-trad Botanical Thigh Plant Succulent Bead

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The customs post at Hollin Bridge had no shade, so the guard let Mirela sit on the low wall while he turned out her bag. He found bread, two pairs of wool socks and a tin of salt. Then he found the planter, wrapped in a wet tea towel, and stopped.

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It hung from a cord of knotted macrame, pink beads ticking against each other as she shifted. Inside the brown terracotta pot sat a fat pale succulent with rose-tipped leaves, two spiky snake plant blades standing guard beside it, and a trailing string of hearts her grandmother had rooted in a jam jar. "Fern," he said, pointing at nothing. "Stone," she said. "It is a plant. You may look but you may not sell it."

He asked what it was for. She told him her grandmother had kept it on the sill of a kitchen in the town she had left, and that the old woman had died with her hands still in its soil. The cuttings were the only things Mirela had been allowed to carry out. The guard studied the hearts, the small green coins swinging from the ends of the vine, and then he looked at the stamp book in his other hand for a long moment.

He wrapped the pot again in its towel, hooked the cord over the nail above the booth window, and waved her through with a plant declaration he filled in himself. Mirela crossed the bridge with the planter swinging in her fist. Halfway over, a gust took the string of hearts and laid it out toward the water, and she did not stop to fix it, because it was headed the same way she was.